Butterflies
by lethedrop
Summary: After Shiori's passing, Shuuichi discusses life, death and moving on with his elder brother. Remember what tied Kurama to the human world in the first place?


Disclaimer: I don't own YuYu Hakusho or profit from this fanwork.

—Niisan – (one's own) elder brother

—veranda – _nure'en, engawa_ – long, narrow wooden walkway

**Butterflies**

Shuuichi smiled gently at his youngest grandchild while his son and daughter-in-law fussed with coats and shoes. Miyako blinked back at him from her mother's arms, then yawned and returned to her teething ring. She had been a handful all day, sensitive to her elders' emotions but too young to hold quiet and still at a funeral—too young to understand death.

Goodnights and goodbyes said, one set of descendents was out the door and the other set headed for bed. His daughter's family lived farther away than they wanted to travel in the dark and past their children's bedtime, so they would spend the night in Niisan's house and leave early enough in the morning to be on time for school and work.

Shuuichi, suddenly alone on the ground floor, wended back to the kitchen. Someone had left the lights on.

His brother kept a cream in the refrigerator that smelled like rotting grass but did more for arthritis than anything the doctor prescribed. Shuuichi helped himself to a large dollop, rubbing it into his fingers and wrists. He always felt comfortable treating Niisan's house and its contents as if they were his own, since he seemed to visit often enough to be a third resident. He lived only an eight minute's drive away, and of course it was where Mother had spent her last years.

He kept expecting to turn around and see her there, huddled over her walker, stubbornly fighting her decreasing mobility. Or to see the warm matron who had always been there for him through adolescence and adulthood, or even the beautiful woman his father had introduced to him as a potential stepmother.

So many memories….

But there was one person still among the living whom he hadn't bid goodnight, so he shook his reverie and turned off the kitchen light.

Shuuichi walked through the dining room to the garden doors and slid one panel open. He exchanged his house slippers for sandals and stepped onto the veranda, sliding the glass shut behind him. Autumn's first hint of frost immediately began to nip at his toes, and he released a sigh for the days when this time of year had seemed perfectly warm.

"Niisan?"

"Over here."

The quiet voice came from the farthest corner, so Shuuichi began to pick his way down the path. Carefully. The dining room light thinned rapidly beyond the veranda, the moon had almost waned to new, and the few stars not obscured by the distant city lights were as unhelpful as the city lights themselves in penetrating the garden's shadows.

Though it seemed mysterious and unwelcoming in the dark, it was a beautiful garden in the daylight, vibrant and serene, with something always in bloom no matter what the season. His brother could probably have made a fortune designing traditional gardens for rich people and institutions; he had known tradition better than their elders even when they were teenagers, and everything he touched flourished.

The whimsical thought crossed his mind that it was too bad Mother hadn't been a plant. Niisan could probably have kept her healthy indefinitely.

In reality, Niisan had nursed her devotedly when old age finally reversed their roles. It was more than fulfilling his duties as eldest son; Niisan had always been close to his mother, even as an otherwise self-contained teenager. He couldn't possibly be taking this with the equanimity he'd been projecting.

He was waiting under the plum tree, only the glint of his eyes not fading into the dimness. His elder stepbrother, who had played video games with him and minded his children and helped him with the down payment for his house and a million other things, was a stranger tonight.

Shuuichi didn't know how long he stood there, at a loss for anything to say.

"How are you holding up?" Niisan asked for him.

Shuuichi took a breath, hesitated, and let it out slowly. He rubbed the back of his neck. "It aches, of course…even though we knew it was coming, she's left a terrible hole in my life that no preparation could have eased. I never stopped missing my real mother, you know, but I knew Mother a lot longer.

"What about you?"

Niisan's reply was soft, bleached of all emotion. "King Enma knew she was a good woman and judged her accordingly. I had eighty-one years with her—a more than reasonable amount of time. She was mortal, and she would have been a different person otherwise."

Shuuichi needed a moment to process that. Yes, knowledge of one's own mortality affected one's outlook—was that what Niisan meant? He was being uncharacteristically metaphysical.

Niisan continued, in the same mild voice that evoked memories of Shuuichi asking for help with his homework and advice about girls. "The soul is like a butterfly; the body a mere chrysalis. We may mourn when a loved one discards the chrysalis, but our grief should be for ourselves, who are left behind, rather than for the person who has gone."

His brother had never spoken to him this way before, and Shuuichi thought he sensed something under the surface that he wasn't catching.

"Niisan…?"

Perhaps the moon's angle had changed or some clouds had dissipated, because Niisan now shone in a pale light. A peaceful smile curved his lips, though his eyes were unreadable. "It has been an honor and a pleasure to be part of this family," he said sincerely.

A flash of silver out of the corner of Shuuichi's eye pulled his gaze toward the garden wall. He glimpsed moonlight spun almost solid, a tapered muzzle and dainty paws, flowing tails—

The wall was empty. As the space under the plum tree was empty.

Shuuichi stood in the garden for a long while.


End file.
